


to ride a thin line

by rinandulric



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, M/M, Porn, there's some angst in there but it's not centered around it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-11
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-11-27 03:22:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20941454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rinandulric/pseuds/rinandulric
Summary: It's always good practice to let the right people know what you want.





	to ride a thin line

**Author's Note:**

  * For [untouchableocean](https://archiveofourown.org/users/untouchableocean/gifts), [singlemalter](https://archiveofourown.org/users/singlemalter/gifts).

* * *

Was Max nervous, even taking into account every other time he snuck off from the paddock or his hotel to a hookup, bad disguise (nobody, save a few, knows why he brings shades to race weekends but never uses them) included? Yes. As much as he would like to say he’s done this a hundred times in the past, _this_ isn’t such a familiar routine. After all, rather than wearing a black unbranded hoodie outside and walking decisively yet with his head turned downwards to his encounter, he finds himself tip-toeing on the same hotel floor his team reserved the rooms at for the whole weekend, still sporting the Red Bull Racing polo as he throws his gaze at every room he walks through, searching for the one indicated in the keycard Alex not-so-skillfully handed him earlier (it was still adorable, though).

_I want to see you later_

Funny thing to say when you’re shaking, catching your breath after kissing your teammate in his driver’s room with only some confidence that most other people wrapped up their work for the day and won’t knock on the door for whatever reason. They had spent most of the day (what little daytime they get in Singapore, that is) standing around the track, going through the usual interviews and filming for guests or the team. The car seemed competitive ahead of the weekend, things were looking up, and every time they were on their own, or every other minute when they were streaming live, Max would throw in a tease, some more blatant than others. That Alex not only got the hint, but was arguably more enthusiastic than he was, came as a pleasant surprise. Max isn’t a big fan of being one upped, much less by a teammate, but he likes to think that the added bounce to his step isn’t his imagination.

Finally finding the room, Max takes a deep breath, knocks only once, unlocks and then opens the door, laying his eyes on Alex sitting on the bed, listening to music and not seeming even minimally invested in the drama that was on the TV, its language one neither of them could understand. He immediately notices Max but only gets up when he comes into the room, a beaming smile gracing his face, which Max can’t help but return.

“Took me forever to find the place. Did I keep you waiting?” Alex turns off the screen, placing his phone and headset on the table beneath it.

“Not at all.” He squats before the small fridge, picking and drinking the bottled water. “You want some?”

Max politely refuses, intent on keeping his mouth warm. Still with his hands in his pockets, he waits for Alex to come into his space, the curls in their mouths lined with anticipation they had felt all day, brimming at their cheeks. There’s a tranquil moment when Alex’s hands find his head, holding his jaw and neck, helping himself to Max. The sensation spreads sparks over his skin, as though only his palms were enough to send his senses into lullabies, staring up at Alex and his dark, kind eyes.

The sweetness he finds in Alex’s lips is intoxicating, and he sinks into it, no holds barred, humming for only a second before letting his hands run free, kissing Alex back, cupping his cheek. There’s a snicker between them when Alex draws a sharp breath, aware of the hand Max snuck under his shirt, caressing the soft skin on his waist.

“I’ve been thinking about this all week.” There’s an unmistakable desire to Max’s voice, returning to kiss Alex between the gaps. “About you.”

“I can tell. I could’ve sworn you were going to _eat_ funny just to turn me on at some point. You’d probably get away with it, too.” The offended look on Max’s face causes Alex to snort.

“Oh my god, _please_ don’t say that.”

Alex kisses him deeper, demanding yet empowering, their heads turning like they couldn’t get close enough, the air around them growing hotter, hands going from heads to hips to pull the other closer. When their crotches grind together, Alex falters for a second, giving Max the opportunity to assault his neck, soliciting low gasps from Alex who continued to press their hips tighter. Feeling Alex’s erection against the denim, he reckons it must feel excruciating with the skinny fit Alex wears all the time, and decides to help, deft hands undoing the button.

“Max, wait -“ He stops immediately, hands off. “What if someone can hear us?” And there it was, what even Alex has said was one of his worst habits.

“Alex. You’re overthinking. This is just like every other quickie you’ve had.”

“Well, sorry I’ve never done this with a teammate on the team’s floor!” Max looks away in embarrassment, poorly stifling his laughter with his hand, knowing Alex would immediately pick up on his own suggestion. “You – _Max!_”

“I didn’t even say anything!” It’s a poor defense and Max knows it, but the way Alex looks at him, hungry and intrigued, tells him it’s really on, now.

There’s a giggle when they get back to it, mouths crashing while they shuffle to take off their clothes. The first thing Max notices when Alex is shirtless is the long scar running parallel to his collar bone. Alex, though, blatantly sizes him up.

“I – _damn_.” Max can’t help the smirk that rises to him.

“Get used to it, we’ll be sharing the tub the whole weekend.”

“Pfft, cram it.”

That was all the invitation Max needed, kissing Alex hard, moving to suck at the bottom of his neck and then at his nipple while helping him lower his pants. He strokes him slowly through his boxers, finding delight in his expression, his moans. The look they share, the smell of skin tingling around them, it all heightens their yearning. Their eyes do not break away from the other as they remove whichever garments they’re still dragging with them.

Alex falls backwards onto the bed, awkwardly pulling himself to lie on the pillows. Seemingly in pursuit, Max is immediately on top of him when he settles on the mattress, kissing him rough and deep, hands brushing through his enriching facial features, their smiles obvious whenever their mouths clash. He grinds their cocks together, painfully stiff and begging for more, kissing and sucking all over Alex’s neck, spoiling him to no end, every moan and _Max_ he breathes only encouraging him.

There’s only a small laugh, a spark of an idea, before Max sits straight, holding down his cock at its base between his thumb and pointer fingers, continuing to thrust against Alex’s own length. There’s a challenge from Alex in the form of hands grabbing his hips, not having surrendered under Max yet.

“I wish I could show you how _hot_ you look right now.” he spits on his free hand right after saying it, refusing to break eye contact with Alex.

“Indulge me.” _the_ lowest Max has heard him. He could come right now.

Max isn’t sure what was the last time he did it like this, _the exchange student in Montréal, maybe_, but he definitely is far more into it this time, taking both cocks in his slick hand and jerking them quick and hard. The bliss that bolts through the two of them immediately mutes out how clumsy it feels, and Max continues to thrust into his hand and Alex. He holds onto Alex’s wrist, his hands still pulling on Max’s hips, the low symphony between them akin to madness, a cycle of pleasure.

When Alex starts loosely swinging his hips (something about having Shakira hips, Max remembers), he gets down immediately, knowing Alex wouldn’t last much longer. Holding Alex’s cock in his hand, he strokes him, agonizingly slow, refusing to look away from him.

“Forgot to say, Alex, you’re huge.” even if it’s just another drop in the wishing-Max-would-finish-me-already ocean, Max does mean it. God damn.

Still stroking himself just as slowly, he jerks Alex off fast, wrapping his lips around his head and skillfully working them around him, tongue constantly teasing the sensitive tip, barely acknowledging Alex was fucking his mouth, too. Alex wails and warns him, biting his arm to muffle his cries and soon enough he bursts, cock still inside Max’s mouth. Max, though, puts what feels like his life’s work into it, continuing to stroke until no more dripped out, while Alex did his best just to catch his breath.

“Max did – did you just swallow?” it’s more an incredulous statement of fact than a question, and it fills Max with satisfaction, flashing his tongue at him.

Climbing back on top of Alex, they kiss again, tongues going to town on one another, desperately exchanging the gross taste, hot and needy. Suddenly, though, Alex reaches for Max’s cock, still stiff and buzzing with pleasure, and strokes him just as fast. Max leans back, giving Alex a better angle to work with while swinging his hips, feeling his ass press against Alex’s half-hard cock. He reckons it’s always good practice to let the right people know what you want, and it’s the last thing he thinks about before the expletives are all he can come up with and the orgasm hits him, come blasting all over Alex’s torso, barely registering how Alex flinches at the come that hits his chin.

As his body winds down from the hyper sensation, he becomes aware of Alex’s hand resting on his thigh, the other still lightly stroking him, sticky with come that had dripped over. He reaches forward and they kiss, slow and satisfied, content hums between them. He wipes the come off Alex’s chin, licking his finger and kissing him again. Alex’s hands hold his temples, and Max pretty much falling on Alex means his torso is lined with his own bodily fluids, too.

“You were great. You _are _great.” his eyes are still closed as he says it, earning a pleased exhale from Max.

“Flatterer.”

They lie like that for a minute, only looking at each other, affection sweet in their eyes. There’s no sound around them save for the air conditioning, the ambient city noise or the occasional hair brushing. Max cannot help but continue to stare at Alex, at his rich dark skin clashing with the lamp switched on next to them, making random shapes around his chest. He throws a bet, a high one, at how rose his own cheeks are right now, hopes Alex is also thinking about them at this moment.

“We should shower. I’ll go first.”

“Alright.” Max gets off him, sitting on the bed, giving him one last look and returning his smile before Alex disappears into the hallway.

Now by his lonesome, Max stretches, his body pleasantly sore. He glances at the digital clock on the bedside table and curses under his breath. _3:23_. Bedtime was hours away, but he didn’t want to get to his room and rewatch race replays or absentmindedly scroll through social media. But at the same time, the thought of staying here, even if only for cuddling instead of staying the night (or morning, rather) scared him. The melancholy stepped in, the awareness that whatever he and Alex have going on is crazy and that they should just stop.

It’s what he thought throughout the season too. He has known Alex since both were young, has always gotten on well with him, but when they first talked as fellow Red Bull drivers as Alex had earned his place in F1, he immediately had a feeling this could eventually happen. And they didn’t stop. Post-race testing in Barcelona had turned out to be flirting hell and Max hated to admit he loved every second of it.

It only truly settled in that he would be forced to make a decision when he was in California, being told that Alex would be his teammate for the rest of the season. Of course, he could’ve handled Belgium a lot better. It had been a difficult weekend in every aspect but seeing Alex race from the bottom of the grid to P5, the kind of moves he pulled left and right, the fortitude he showed to have raced like that.

_You were great_

That time, he had been the one to say it to Alex when they were alone, and between the wave of feelings washing over everyone that day and what Max saw in Alex (past the sweat still covering him, anyway), their kissing felt inevitable. The next week Alex asked him what he wanted, and even if he doesn’t want to say he felt cornered, he certainly wasn’t in his element, telling him he just wanted whatever they had to brighten their day a little whenever it could. Max asked if that was fine, and the signature _yeah_ Alex had answered him, soft and understanding, told him it would be simple.

But it never was simple. Max really doesn’t know what he wants, especially with Alex. Somehow racing has always been the most straightforward part of his life.

He picks his clothes, already having wiped himself with the tissues close by, and waits outside the bathroom. When its door opens and Alex steps out in nothing but fresh boxers, seeming to immediately catch out his mood, Max feels vulnerable, so much so it hurts, and when Alex brushes his shoulder with his hand, he gives in for a moment, looks back at Alex, open and willing.

Alex takes his hand, holds it rather than locking their fingers together, brushes his cheek before holding his jaw, and kisses him, easy and undemanding. Max melts into him, into the fear of what goes on between them breaking out, into the safety he feels around Alex and his space, mirrored so perfectly on him. When they separate, Max cannot look away, not from his caring eyes, not from his jovial smile, fully invested in this moment with Alex, even if both know he’s terrible at this. He feels his hand being squeezed, Alex enveloping it with his warmth.

“You can stay for now. I brought my PS4. Two controllers.”

It’s strange, Max figures. It forces a snicker out of him, and his smile is unavoidable. He allows it, Alex and his understanding of him, to be able to calm him like this, to be able to thrill him like that. Even if he’s afraid of all of this, of how easy it would be for Alex’s career to be discarded just as easily as it was uplifted in the last year, even if he doesn’t trust himself fully to keep a level head, he figures he just has to ride that thin line. He’s pretty sure that’s part of both his job description and his way of life, so, at this moment, he wants to give it a try.

“You got FIFA?”

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Once again, Max and Alex were my favorite personalities heading into the season, so I was hoping for Alex to get the call up for 2020, instead we got it in Spa and since then I've wanted to write the two of them. 
> 
> Singapore media day happened and I thought "alright this is what I'm doing" but I never did, until I was labeled a Malex god. Gotta own up to your reputation sometimes. And gift your friends what little fic you write, they're always there for you.


End file.
